Damages
by askita
Summary: Marie and Jubilee are attacked by a random set of theives and Marie comes away with damages, how will she handle the changes to her mutation?
1. Chapter 1

She stares at the ceiling overhead, brown eyes drifting closed as she thinks back on all the things she's seen today. After the failed attempt to convince a 15 year old with the ability to control currents in water to come back with them to Xavier's, Marie and Jubilee had went back to their hotel to grab a seat at the bar. There were big bay windows. People, pools, miniscule human contact that everyone else takes for granted. Jubilee, to her credit, didn't suit up and join the others. The girl was a really, really good friend.

"California sucks," she whispered, to no one in particular.

"Whaddya mean?" Jubilee asked.

Marie lifts herself up onto her elbows, eyes scanning the expensive hotel room before settling on her friend. She gestures lazily toward the television where some Hollywood teeny boppers are coming out of a bar, hanging all over each other, cameras flashing non-stop.

"Look at them. They're too drunk to appreciate it!" she huffs, "All that skin, all that touching, and they have no idea what they're taking for granted. Which is exactly why I hate coming to places like this. It's almost too much."

Jubilee, once again, lives up to her reputation. Without an ounce of fear, she crawls over to where Marie is sprawled over the bed, grabs a throw blanket and wraps the other girl up into a hug.

"I know it's rough, chica. We'll be leaving tomorrow."

Marie settles into her friends embrace, "It's just they have no idea. I would give anything for just one day. Just a day, to be like that. Oh, what I would do…"

Moments later she's shaking off the melancholy. "Enough of me wallowing in my own misery." She plants a quick kiss on her friend's blanket covered hand, "Have I told you lately how great a friend you are?"

"Not in the last few hours," Jubilee replies, snatching the remote off the floor and flipping through the channels.

"Remind me to do that," she hops off the bed and heads into the bathroom. A few seconds later, she emerges, and checks the time. "Up for some Chinese?"

"Always, you know I love the stuff."

"I just got a hankering for pork fried rice, and it won't go away."

An hour later, they're seated in a small Chinese restaurant boasting a name that neither of them could read, let alone pronounce.

"This place is really nice, very traditional."

"Hell chica, I wouldn't know. What, are you gonna ask me to read the other side of the menu next?"

Marie flashes her a glove covered finger, and giggles erupt from their table, earning glares and looks that had been heretofore avoided. Well, as avoided as possible considering that one of them is covered practically head to foot in the middle of July, and one is running around in a bright yellow tank and matching short gloves.

A waiter comes around and brings their food, and there's silence for the next twenty minutes while they inhale everything on their plates, broken only by a muffled 'mmmm' or 'ahhhh' every few seconds.

"Now for the best part!" Jubilee announces as she pushes her plate away and grabs the fortune cookies in the center of the table. She tosses one to Marie, and digs in, cracking the sweet shell and unfurling the small slip of paper. She pops a small chunk of cookie into her mouth then groans, annoyed. "Ugh, that is sooooo cliché. What about yours?"

"Same here," Marie replies reading her own fortune. "'Be careful what you wish for, the future is full of surprises.'"

"I don't know why I expected anything different from 'True love is hard to find, you must seek it in yourself first.' Maybe because this place looks so authentic, guess that's what I get for stereotyping."

"Let's get outta here," Marie says, and tosses enough money on the table to cover their tab. She and Jubilee leave the restaurant, and after a moment of indecision, take a left. They're walking for fifteen minutes before Jubilee lets Marie know she's uneasy.

"It's later than I thought," Jubilee squeaks out, "It's really dark out now. I think I missed a turn."

"Maybe," Marie agrees, looking up and down the dark street. "We can't be that far off course, let's back track."

After about five minutes of walking back in the direction they came and not happening upon familiar territory, they're starting to get edgy. Jubilee starts digging in her pockets for her cell phone to call a cab.

Marie settles down on a bench, and watches as her friend sprawls out next to her. Brown eyes dart around them again, and she tugs on the edges of her gloves. She tries to tune out Jubilee's chatter figuring out where exactly they were. She notices how deserted the street is, and is about to say something when her attention is immediately captured.

She becomes aware of two things simultaneously. The first, is the cold feel of metal against the back of her head, the second is the clatter of plastic as the phone Jubilee has been speaking on is knocked from her hand. She freezes, and watches out of the corner of her eye as her friend is hauled backwards over the park bench and out of her view. Panic white and hot rises into her throat, but the barrel of the pistol warming from her body heat stops her from doing anything.

"Stand up!" Comes the harsh command from behind her, and she feels a large strong hand grasp her elbow and yank her out of the seat when she doesn't comply fast enough. She's shoved backwards, toward the alleyway, where she stumbles and falls into the filth. She knocks her head on the rough brick, and wonders absently why people always feel the need to knock her unconscious. Her attention is drawn back to the situation at hand when Jubilee is thrown onto the ground next to her.

"Empty your pockets!" The man screams. "Give us all your jewelry and cash. Make it easier on yourself, don't fight." Marie looks over to see Jubilee's pleading eyes, her hands were tied behind her back, rendering her nearly useless. Marie decides that this is not the first time that she had much more exposed skin than just her face.

"Move!" the word is accompanied by a kick in the head, and Marie fights off the sparkles behind her eyes, blinking to keep unconsciousness at bay. The movements are sluggish, but she manages to empty her pockets and dump everything on the floor in front of her. She tries to get a good look at her attackers, but they're wrapped up as tight as she is, with the lovely addition of ski-masks. Bastards.

"Your friend too. And move a little quicker unless you want another knock." His voice is harsh, and close to her face. The smell of his breath makes her want to wretch. She feels her vision swim as she tries to focus on him. Something isn't right, every time she tries to focus everything goes blurry. It's as if her vision is in an unfocused state … like when you have to see one of those magic eye posters.

She struggles to see, thankful for her gloves as she quickly removes Jubilee's earrings, her bracelets are behind her back, and she hopes they won't notice. She empties the other girls pockets and places everything on the ever growing pile in front of her.

"That all of it?" the man asks, glaring at her. At least she thinks he was glaring, her vision is whirling away from her again, and reaches a hand up to her head, rubbing slightly. She tosses her hair and rubs her neck, nodding at the man. Anything to get him to leave them alone.

"Yeah, that's all…" her voice trails off as she feels the barrel of the pistol again.

"Now, why would you go lying to me sweetheart?" The barrel slides a trail along her face, from her temple to the curve of her neck, it catches on the chain of Logan's tags and her breath hitches.

"They're nothin', just dog tags, I promise, they're not worth anything. I promise. Please, leave them." He chuckles at her and reaches out with his other hand, she freaks, then remembers they're gloved. Bastards. It really is too bad they're worried about fingerprints.

The chain jerks against her neck and snaps. Tears gather in her eyes, as the man inspects the tags. He laughs and threw them back at her. "They really are worthless. Don't say I never gave you anything." His words hurt just as much as his fist when he reaches out and cuffs her in the head again, the butt of his pistol connecting with her left temple, the wall connecting with the right.

For a few seconds it's touch and go, as she wars within herself for her vision. When she's able to focus, Jubilee's screaming at her, and the small pile is gone. She clutches the tag in her hand, and it's a few harrowing seconds before her searching eyes land on a still struggling Jubilee. She braces herself on the wall trying to balance her vision enough to grasp a nearby piece of glass and cut through the zip tie holding her friends hands together.

Finally free, Jubilee dashes to the end of the alley, looking for their attackers, but comes back empty handed with a worried look on her face.

Marie cradles her head in her hands, fading in and out of awareness. The last thing she hears is Jubilee using the communicator on her yellow leather wrist band to call for Jean and the Blackbird.

Marie opens her eyes the merest slit, struggling with her surroundings to come into focus. She's starting to think that this is getting ridiculous. Her vision comes into focus for a moment, and she sees brick. Apparently she's still in the alleyway, and she wonders why they haven't gotten her up yet.

She feels hands shifting her, and hears Jeans soft voice above her dolling out instructions. Frantically she wonders who all's here, and why can't she move. She begs silently for no one to accidentally touch her. Even semi-unconscious she doesn't want to hurt anyone.

The sound of Jubilee crying reaches her ears, and Marie wants nothing more than to tell her friend that she's going to be fine. A little rest and Jean will have her right as rain, but she still can't fucking move. Her mouth isn't even trying to form words, and her arms won't move, and she can't even keep her damn eyelids open. Fuck, she curses them as she's lifted.

She remembers that she was gripping the tags, and prays that she still has them. Maybe they were tangled around her fingers, maybe Jubilee has them. She concentrates but can't feel them in her hand, but that doesn't matter because she isn't feeling her hands at all and she assumes it from being hit in the head so many times.

Is her face that irksome that it causes people to hit, and kick it? Why does the sight of her make people want to knock her head into walls?

She feels the blackness closing in again and she is being carried. She welcomes it.

When she slips back into consciousness, she is greeted by the familiar sounds of the Blackbird, but doesn't know if they're taking off, or landing, or still flying. She can't force her eyes open this time, but Marie can still hear the muffled sounds of Jubilee's crying, so she hasn't been out for that long.

She hears the familiar sound of metal scraping on metal and does a little happy jig in her head. She feels much calmer knowing that Logan is here. She wonders suddenly why he hasn't touched her yet. Not that she wants him to, she hates hurting him, but she's surprised he hasn't tried yet. She realizes that people around her are talking, it's Jean and Scott. They're close to her, and possibly whispering, although they could be screaming and she doesn't know how they would sound through the gray haze of pain fogging her mind.

"No, this is her brain Scott. I'm not risking it." Definitely Jean, and she's angry. Not common.

"I'm telling you, Logan is right. It'll help." Wow, that is one comment no one thought would ever leave Scott's lips, but 'Ole One Eye tends to surprise us every now and then. Like that time he started the food fight in the cafeteria.

"As much as it pleases me greatly to find you and Logan in agreement on something, I'm not risking her brain on him touching her." Bing. Marie knew it, the had to be a reason that Logan hadn't brought her around by now. She forces herself to pay attention to the rest of the conversation. She can feel herself fading, and wants to know more before she passes out again.

"Logan's healing hasn't done anything to heal any possible brain damage he has. You don't have years of amnesia for nothing. The brain is very complex. On top of that, we still don't know exactly how Rogue's skin works. With the level of possible brain damage, the draw on her powers could put her body at an even greater risk…"

No, no, no! Marie fights to stay awake, she needs to hear this. Damn…

She feels the blackness closing in again and Jean's voice is silent now. She fights it.

Finally, she's awake again. A quick scan of her body tells her that she still can't feel anything, and that she still can't move either. Her eyes won't open so she concentrates on the noise around her. He hearing seems clearer every now and then, maybe it's noises that are closer.

The sound of wheels rolling across smooth surface echo's off the walls and into her ears. She's in the lower levels on her way to the Med-Bay. Her mind is swirling around her, images flashing so fast she can't make out anything but a jumble of colors. Unconsciousness beckons again, she strains to stay awake, but no ones talking, so she surrenders.

Her mind is a chaotic mess. Thoughts and feelings and things she can't control. This shit really pisses her off. She doesn't understand how to control the others in her head. It scares her. She's scared. She keeps trying to hide, trying to run, but unfortunately you can't run from your own mind. Even the oblivion of sleep is evasive. The more she comes out of her haze, the louder the voices around her get. It's a cacophony of noise and ears can't distinguish one from the other. And who talked this loud anyway, aren't we in the Med-Bay by now?

She finds she can finally, finally, move again and brings her hands up to her ears. "Ahhhhh…" the shout rips itself from her throat. If everyone would just stop talking. Suddenly an onslaught of fearful exclamations assaulted her. Logan growls, it echoes off the walls repeatedly.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up…"

"Rogue, open your eyes. I need you to open your eyes for me." Jean's voice. Soft and soothing it makes Marie wonder how she can sound calm and scared at the same time.

She cracks her eyes open just a bit. "Jean… Jean please, just tell them to be quiet. Please, quiet."

Jean pushes her glasses up a little further on her nose and darts a glance around. Marie watches her eyebrows draw together in confusion as she meets her eyes again. "Rogue, honey. No one is talking."

Marie glared at the pretty doctor. "I'm not an idiot Jean, and I'm not deaf. I just want them to shush so I can concentrate." She pauses, using her fingers to massage her temples. "Please, it's just so loud." She gritted her teeth, "Scott, for the love of God, please shut up, I'm FINE!"

She squeezes her eyes shut again, a whimper escaping her throat. There is a constant low growl as Logan mumbles to himself.

"Rogue," she heard Scott again, "I didn't say anything."

"Scott, I heard you. 'What is happening to her? Why is she hearing things? Is she going to be ok? What is wrong with her?' you keep repeating the same damn thing and it's getting annoying." She keeps her eyes closed, rubbing her knuckles into them. "Please, Scott. Just be quiet. Logan, that goes for you too. The mumbling and growling isn't helping anything." She hears shuffling across the room, and recognizes the sound of the doors sliding open and closed.

"Rogue, just sit tight for a minute. I need to go talk to Scott." Jean says, Marie moves her hands and watches the doors swallow her whole.

Silence. Blessed silence. She rubs her temple again. Minutes pass. She finds herself wondering how long they've been landed. How long was she unconscious this last time. The doors slide open again, and Jean comes in. She pauses, staring at Marie for a moment before walking to her desk and taking a seat.

"Can you hear anyone now, Rogue."

She's got to be kidding. Marie levers herself up into a sitting position, and eyes the doctor. "No. There's no one here Jean, who would I hear?" She rubs her forehead again. "Look Jean, can I go? Please, I think I just need some sleep."

"Absolutely not, no sleep for 24 hours. Concussions are nasty things. They can kill you. As it is, I'm worried about possible brain damage." Jean's voice was stern, all business.

Marie feels her heart skip a beat. Brain damage? She knew it couldn't have been good to take that many blows to the head. "What are you talking about Jean?"

"Rogue, earlier, when you were begging the others to stop talking, there really was no one talking. I think that your concussion caused some problems with your mutation."

Marie stares at Jean, her mouth has fallen slightly open and she just sits in shock for a moment or two. Suddenly her mouth closes with an audible snap. "Like, how?" she asks, releasing a breath she doesn't realize she's holding.

Jean stands, and takes a step toward her. Marie stiffens drawing a breath. She's not sure if she likes this. Jean's not going to touch her, right? She wouldn't dare, would she? Marie looks down and realizes that at some point they've stripped her. She's wearing nothing but a white hospital gown. Great, everyone on the team has now seen her very nearly naked. Thanks, Jean.

Which brings her back to the fact that Jean is coming ever closer. She starts approximating in her head. Four feet. Three. Tw- "Ahhh-" Immediately the voices are back. And with them, dawning realization. Jean takes a step back and the noise is gone, makes a note on the chart. It's nothing like having the three personalities in her head she already does. They don't linger, but it's literally a bunch of people talking at once, but they don't blend together to form a low murmur, like in the cafeteria. They are each distinct and poignant, but indecipherable.

One thought burns through her in her aftermath. Ok, two. First, "How do you do it Jean?"

Jean glances up from the chart she's studying. "Do what?" Obviously the woman wasn't paying her any damn attention.

"Deal. With the voices." This time Jean actually gives her a bit of attention. Her eyes narrowed.

"How many do you hear?"

"You mean other than the three I normally hear?" she snorts, "When you come near me, it's like I can hear everyone in the mansion." She looks down, glowering at her glove covered hands. "It's actually rather ironic, not only can't I touch without stealing peoples lives, Now I can't even be near them without stealing people powers."

But, Jean wasn't listening. She was scribbling on her notepad. Then that specific brand of concentration comes over her face, the type that you just know means she's having some internal conversation with the Professor. Which means he's coming down here. Which means she can't just wallow in her own self resentment in a dark corner somewhere. The next few days are going to suck.


	2. Chapter 2

Here's chapter 2. I'll be trying my best to upload the rest soon! Let me know what you think! Thanks to the awesome feralbites for the beta! She's super amazing and always gives me her most amazing feedback!

They've been standing over there for 10 minutes already. She gets a "Good to see you're back Rogue," from the professor before Jean drags him over to the far side of the room. Every now and then one of them looks up at her.

She's getting really annoyed. At least she wasn't half naked anymore. Jean had sent Jubilee up to her room and Marie is now comfortable attired in pajamas with little monkey's all over them, and matching yellow gloves. Obviously Jubilee had delved into her own closet instead of Marie's.

She lets out a huff and glares in their general direction. Of all that's happened, they still feel the need to censor their conversation. It's annoying.

"Are you gonna stand over there whispering about me, or are you gonna come tell me what's wrong with me?"

The professor sighs, nods and moves toward her. He stops five feet away, giving her one of those apologetic smiles that you know means he's really, really sorry, and it kinda makes Marie feel like shit for being snippy. "Forgive me Rogue, from what Jean says about how you handled her powers…" He trails off. There's no need to go on.

"Believe me Professor, I appreciate it." She smiles, but the sadness is still evident in her eyes.

"Rogue, tell me, do you feel any different?"

"Aside from the dull pounding pain in my head, I feel tired, cranky and sorry I'm being such a bitch." She tells him honestly. What's the point in lying to a telepath, right?

The Professor rests one elbow on the arm of his hover chair and settles his chin into it. "Rogue, Jean has to concentrate to read someone's mind. Her stronger power is telekinesis. When you were using her powers, how many voices did you hear?"

Remembering the noise in her head from earlier, she lifts a hand to her head and stares directly into the Professor's eyes, holding his blue gaze steady for a moment. "I can't count that high."

A sharp intake of breath is heard, and Marie looks over to Jean, who has settled herself into a nearby chair. Her hands are shaking, and the doors slide open and Scott bursts into the room.

Marie jumps down and runs across the room to the farthest corner. The rest of the crowd has followed in behind Scott and she realizes that half the mansion must be awake. Logan takes a step toward her, but stops when she flings her arms out in front of her.

"No!" she screams, she doesn't want to hurt anyone, and knows that she can't control all of their powers. Her eyes scan the groups, stopping briefly one each one in turn. Logan, Jubes, Remy, Bobby, Kitty, Piotr, Storm, and Scott, all unknowingly scaring the ever living daylights out of her.

"You can't come near me, I don't want to phase through the floor, make it rain, or blast a hole in the wall. Please-" she begs as Logan moves closer. Her eyes lock with his golden ones, and he relents. He must have seen something convincing in them.

She drops his gaze and looks pleadingly at the Professor. He nods and turns to address the gathered crowd.

"Rogue has suffered what I can only term, a form of brain damage." Every eye turns toward the Professor, except Logan, who's captured her gaze again. She nods slightly as the Professor continues. "It seems that the damage altered her mutation, so that she can absorb powers by, not only being in direct contact, but in close proximity. Everyone must stay at a safety net of five feet from her at all times."

"That's bullshit," Logan finally breaks out of the spell he's under. He turns to the Professor anger sparkling in his golden eyes. "She has to stay five feet from everyone all the time. It's bad enough she has to cover herself from head to toe, now she can't even stand next to someone. SHIT!"

He's pissed. She can tell, truthfully, she shouldn't have expected any less. Logan strove to give her as normal an existence as possible. He never let her wear gloves, insisted she wear tank tops and shorts when it was just them. She smiled sadly at him, and hung her head forward, allowing her hair to fall over her face.

She leaned back into the corner and slid down the wall. She hears footsteps, and looks up. "No, Logan." She says softly.

"You can't," Jean pips up, speaking for the first time since learning that she is apparently no where near her peak level of power. "Logan you could hurt her more than help her. We have no clue as to the power of your healing. The brain is too fragile."

Logan's knuckles go white with force as he clenches his fists, but he stands still. Barely.

"C-could-" Marie starts, stutters and starts again. "Could everyone leave, please?" They start to file away, hearing the sadness in her voice. She realizes that Logan thinks she means him, and calls out stopping him. "Stay, please."

He nods, sends her a sad smile, and moves to reach out to her before clenching his fists again and settling into a stool next to the Professor. Marie figures that they'll both keep far enough away if they stick together. Ironically that the two people she cares for the most, the two that are probably the only ones that can help her are forced to stay the farthest away.

The Professor turns his chair to face her again, and she gathers her strength. "What's next Professor?"

The man tilts his head, and thinks for a moment. "I would like to try a few things." He says finally. "Shall we retire to the Danger Room?"

Marie pulls her brows together and snaps her head up too look at him. Her eyes dart from him, to Jean, to Logan. "The Danger Room?"

"Yes come along dear, you have 23 hours to kill."

Ten minutes later has Marie, standing next to Jean, blissfully almost alone in her already crowded head. The Professors got a block on her, so she doesn't go all crazy in her mind and end up curled into a ball in the corner holding her ears. He says it's a temporary block, that he can easily remove, from a safe distance, after Jean goes away.

Jean thinks that they should leave it in place, so that she can treat Marie if something crazy happens. That way they can work on medical things, Jean also thinks that it won't be hard for her to master the telekinesis. Logan wants to know why he can place a block on her reading everyone's mind, but he can't place a block on her powers.

Marie wonders if the block is working, because she's trying really hard not to think about anything, let alone what Jean or Logan is thinking. She figures that maybe it's because she's always wondering what Logan's thinking, and they're Jeans powers, so maybe the block is working. Whatever.

She focuses her brown eyes on Jean's green ones and smiles faintly. "What do I need to know?"

Jean worries her bottom lip between her teeth, obviously choosing her cords carefully. "Everyone controls their powers differently. For Instance, Bobby knows instinctually about temperatures and water properties. Kitty uses her molecules on an individual level. When I use my telekinesis, I concentrate carefully, and try to envision all the dimensions of the object. It's like when I use it, suddenly my eyes are like little CGI simulators that show every possibly dimension, and where exactly I need to move the object and how. I have to choose a path before I can actually move the object."

"Hmm…" Marie tilts her head and looks at the small red marble a 15 feet in front of her, it's small swirled with white. It makes her want to line up more and start a game. She assumes this is from Erik, she's never touched marbles.

The process that Jean explains happens in a millisecond. She doesn't examine the object, she doesn't concentrate, she doesn't choose the path before it moves. She didn't even have to think the words. It happened automatically, instinctually. She looks at the small red marble in her hand, and back toward each of the five points the marble bounced off of. Small dents in the floor around where the marble had been set. Five points in a star.

She places the marble in her other hand, she examines the now empty palm. There's no red mark. The marble landed softly in her hand after 5 hard bounces and a fast trip from 15 feet away.

"Holy shit!" She hears Logan over the speaker system and can't help but smile a bit. She turns back to Jean, and hands her the marble.

Green eyes study the entire surface and dart up to the Observation Box, where Marie can now see Scott and Storm standing behind Logan and the Professor.

"There's not a mark on it."

"Amazing." The professor is clearly impressed. Wonder how often that happens. "Rogue, your gift is obviously far more powerful that we had originally thought. I suspect that you could control any gift you encounter. Would you care to try Jean's telepathy?"

Marie shakes her head quickly, "No Professor, whether I'm capable of controlling them or not, I'm not comfortable with possibly being able to cause severe damage like that." She tries to suppress a shudder and doesn't quite manage. "No. Plus I was thinking, Jean's right. Now that we know I can control the telekinesis I'd prefer that you kept the block in place. At least I know that I can be near her."

She smiles at Jean again. She returns the smile and grabs Marie's hand. Her smile wavers a bit and she rests her head on the other woman's shoulder. The appearance of the Danger Room changes and suddenly they are standing in a comfortable library, a large grouping of sofas and chairs appears and Marie settles into one.

The doors open behind her and she hears everyone stumble in. Logan takes a seat as close as he can get, which is still two chairs away. A wave of depression washes over Marie, and she suddenly doesn't know if she can do it.

The Professor sits on the other side of Logan, and turns his attention toward her once every one is comfortable. "Rogue-" He's speaking and she's not listening. She's looking at Storm, completely comfortable, relaxed, and serene.

She's watching Jean and Scott, obviously not trying to touch, but unable to help themselves. A brush of a leg, fingers sliding along the back of a hand. Her heart aches as she looks Logan over, brooding into a glass of expensive whiskey he's managed to get from somewhere. He keeps looking over at her, especially now that she's sure her scents radiating sadness, discomfort and heartache. He's got one fist clenched so tightly around the glass she's surprised it's not breaking.

She fights the childish urge to rub her fists into her eyeballs to hold off the tears. The pain that she'll never even have the semblance of normalcy she had before stabs her like a hot poker in the heart. The confidence, the excitement, the awe and wonder from before are gone. She's no longer excited about her mastery over the telekinesis. All she wants is to be able to crawl into bed with Logan when the nightmares get too bad. To be able to sit with him and watch a movie, a hockey game.

She's fairly certain that she's got to be projecting her misery, but she can't help it. The Professors voice is soft and comforting now. Belatedly she realizes that there's only one comfort that she wants. She manages to stay in her chair, and knows that Logan can smell her misery by the way the arm of the danger room simulated chair splinters under his free hand. She still amazed he's managed not to break the glass, but she notices that it's fuller than it was before.

She can't control the snort or laughter that escapes her lips at the idea that he managed to get the Professor to let him bring alcohol into the Danger Room.

She realizes everyone is looking at her. She can't seem to care.

"I need some time to think." She tells them, then stands to walk out the door. "Logan, will you meet me back in the Med-Bay at-" she glances at the clock on the wall. "lunch?" Six hours, plenty of time.

"Sure" he replies, taking a long drink of the whiskey. "Lunch."

The door clicks behind her as she heads down the hallway toward the elevator and up to her room for a much needed shower.

6:55 AM, Marie's Room

Marie's standing in front of the once foggy mirror staring at her reflection. A cursory once over doesn't show any signs of change, any signs of damage. There's no difference from the girl who stood in front of a different mirror, in a different state yesterday afternoon. None except for the large black and blue marks on either side of her head. God, why didn't anyone tell her she looked like shit?

She dries quickly, pondering how so much can change with so little to show for it. She's in front of the mirror again. Long black peasant skirt, V-neck light blue top, sheer black scarf, black silk opera gloves. The gloves are a pair of her favorites, Logan bought them. Had told her that the thick lightening bolt embroidered on the out seam reminded him of her. She'd smiled and thanked him, kissed him lightly on his bearded cheek.

She runs a finger over the white bolt, and smiles fondly at the memory. Another quick once over and she's suddenly hit by the realization that now people can't get close enough to touch her. She sighs, wishing she could fore-go all the layers, but there's still Jean, she's gonna need to be able to be near her and not be afraid. And there's still all the little kids, they won't know any better, especially if she goes skin baring.

Then there's Logan. Jean's only gonna be able to hold him off for so long. As of yet, Marie's still undecided on her course of action. Which is why she needs these six hours. A quick glance at the clock, tells her that she's only got five hours left. Shit, five hours. Grabbing a brush, she pulls it through her slightly damp locks. Trying to arrange them to cover the bruises and failing. She quickly pulls a head scarf from her drawer and ties it on, wondering absently how long she'll need it. She whirls and heads out into the danger zone known as Xavier's.

7:45 AM, Communal Kitchen

Marie grabs a muffin out of a large bowl on the counter and settles into a stool. She takes a bite, enjoying the fresh blueberries, letting her thoughts wander. She's been thinking hard on her situation, taking everything Jean has said about her brain into consideration.

The possibility that it can cause further damage, slip her into a coma, increase the small radius around her. The possibility that it won't fix it, that nothing will happen. It's possible that she's been thinking too hard. She doesn't hear Piotr enter. She doesn't even notice when he settles into the seat next to her. Until he slides a tall glass of orange juice in front of her.

She freezes, fear settling over her like a mantle. A really heavy mantle. Her head swivels and her eyes flash at Piotr. He's gaping in shock at her and she can't figure out why. Marie reaches up to brush a long strand of dark brown hair out of her eyes and tuck it back into the head scarf. That's when she sees it.

The glint, like the metal of Logan's claws. Except adamantium is prettier. Suddenly she remembers why she was afraid of him being so close. There's not much of her skin showing, but she looks at the patch on her arm and sure enough it resembles steel. No wonder fear suddenly got heavy. Usually it's a light airy feeling, making her want to take off in flight. And come to think of it, her perspective is a bit higher, not much, but apparently things look different from a few inches up.

She locks eyes with Piotr, only to find his blue orbs studying her. She thinks it's probably weird to see what you should look like in reverse. He's staring into her eyes, her now silver eyes, and he smirks at her. She scowls.

"How do I turn it off."

"How did you turn it on?"

"What kind of question is that? I have no idea." She's annoyed again. Can't he just open that big Russian mouth of his and tell her, not ask her all kinds of round about questions.

"Rogue, treat this as the learning experience it is. What happened when you turned it on?" His gaze is boring into her, willing her to answer him. It's not surprising when she does. They've always been able to talk.

"I didn't realize you were here until you passed the orange juice over." She says thoughtfully, "I freaked, froze like I always do. No one realizes how scared I get sometimes when you guys get too close." She's thinking again. "So, it's instinctual?"

Piotr's still watching her, she thinks he's remembering but she can't be sure. "It wasn't for me. I had to consciously think I wanted something for protection. Came in very handy one winter at home, when I went without a coat. I had to train myself. Like Kitty, she's trained herself. With you, it's like instinct. You felt the urge to need protection from something and you changed. I have to actually think about it."

"So, I could turn it off, what? By wanting to?"

"Yes, more or less. It's easier to turn on than off. You have to think about it. Or I do. We could practice, if you'd like." She does as he suggests and the metal melts away. She feels lighter again.

"Piotr, can I ask you something?"

"Always."

"Do you think I should let Logan heal me?" She asks him, sighing. She takes a drink of the orange juice and chews a bite of muffin while she waits for his answer. The taste of the blueberries explode in her mouth.

"I think that you should do what's best for you."

"Oh, yeah. Heaps of help you are," She snorts. "It's just, Jean says it dangerous. That it could cause more problems. Like, increase my 'radius', or put me in a coma, or it might not even work."

"Jean is a smart woman," Piotr says thoughtfully, "and a good doctor."

"Yeah, I know," she's picking at a loose thread on the edge of her skirt. "It's just, not everyone's powers are like yours. Not controlling your powers doesn't hurt anyone. What about being near Jubilee? If my mutation makes me able to instinctually control everyone's powers, then I could get annoyed and send fireworks out, I could burn people. Or like Bobby, I could accidentally freeze someone, and really hurt them."

She's practically ready to cry now and she slides her brown eyes over to meet Piotr's blue ones. "That scares me."

Her statement is simple, and truthful. She's scared. Piotr shifts his form, and she feels cool metal touching her forehead as he places a kiss there. "You will figure it out, Rogue. I'm sorry that I could not help you more." He turns and leaves the kitchen, leaving Marie to ponder her situation.

8:36 AM, Storm's Garden

After spending another twenty minutes in the kitchen brooding, Marie decides a lift in spirits is in order. Which is why she's now standing amid the vivid blooms and lush greens of Ororo's personal garden.

Spring is beautiful in Westchester. Her gloved fingertips caress a bright blue tulip as she absently blows on the streaming mug in her hands. Coffee, sweetened with sugar and milk. It's not Irish, the way Logan sometimes likes it. Her mother used to say that she likes 'a little bit of coffee with her cream and sugar', except now she makes it a lot stronger. Consequences of having absorbed Logan so much, she assumes.

She sips the coffee as the familiar buzz of the Professor's hover chair reaches her ears. She turns toward him, sitting as he is across a small rainbow colored expanse of tulips, lilies, roses, and shiny green ivy. Ironically it's just far enough across to remind her that she's a leper in every sense of the word. People shouldn't come near her, and she still has to wrap herself up. She shakes off the thought.

"Hello, Professor." She sends him a smile that actually reaches her eyes, she loves this man who's been more of a father to her than her own.

"Hitting the caffeine already I see."

"Well, if Jean's gonna make me stay up for 24 hours."

"It's necessary, I'm afraid."

She sighs, loudly. "I know, head trauma and all that. It's just annoying. Everything is annoying," she mumbles. She's trying to maintain a cheery outlook. It would be such a shame to bring depression to the lovely scene around her. She takes another sip of her coffee, it's still too hot to gulp, and tries to organize her thoughts.

Seeing her brows knit in concentration, the Professor sits patiently, knowing she'll talk when she's ready. Its several minutes before she does.

"I think I'm going to let Logan get close to me at lunch," she tells him. She's still uncertain, it's written all over her face, spelled out in her eyes. "Mostly because I can't not let him," she clarifies. The Professor nods his head, but stays silent.

"It's not that I don't think he'll listen, although I don't think that it's Jean's edict that he's not allowed that's keeping him away. He's afraid of hurting me." She pauses, there before continuing. "I can't not let him, because I need him to be close to me. Especially now, when I'm uncertain, and still scared. He's my rock. My immovable foundation. It's killing him, not to be able to help me."

She kicks a stray pebble with her bare foot, and moves over to a bench, being sure to keep the same distance between her and the Professor. Whether or not she instinctually controls other powers. She doesn't want to wish desperately for everyone to shut up and send them all into a coma with her subconscious. That's a lot of people in a 250 mile radius. They'd probably haul her off to jail.

At least in jail, they'd enforce the 5 foot radius. She won't have to bottle up her skin anymore.

"Rogue." The Professor admonishes. She blushes and turns away. She really needs to get her mind under control. She's probably shouting at him. "You are."

"I'm sorry, Professor. I'm just a bit, preoccupied."

"It's understandable Rogue. Just remember that your decision is based only on you. No one else." He smiles that serene smile at her and turns away.

Marie stares after him for a few minutes, lost in thought. She takes another sip of her coffee, and realizing it's at the perfect temperature, downs the rest of it. Another cup is in order.


End file.
